VE Day madness in Moscow

Germany’s surrender on 8 May 1945 saw celebrations erupt throughout the western world. Londoners rejoiced in Trafalgar Square and up the Mall to Buckingham Palace. Half a million squeezed into New York’s Times Square. Paris and Rome saw similar scenes. However, it was Russia that went really mad. Radio Moscow delivered the news at 1.10am and Muscovites immediately took to the streets, many still in pyjamas. The city was soon awash in a sea of vodka. By the time Stalin addressed the nation 22 hours later, the city had sold out of grog. Moscow was drunk dry

Mercury’s tricks and treats

The Queen frontman’s drag queen-themed 39th birthday bash in Munich takes some beating – but the Halloween 1978 affair in New Orleans just pips it. Nude girls in spray-painted suits served champagne. Naked statues in the garden were alive. Renowned as one of the most expensive parties in rock history, it also featured snake-charmers, fire-eaters, mud-wrestlers, ballerinas, Zulu dancers, strippers (some with “highly exotic specialities”), transsexuals, rent boys and, most famously, mountains of cocaine piled high on trays strapped to the heads of dwarves

Cool Britannia chez Blair

When New Labour swept to power in 1997, toothy PM Tony Blair invited an eclectic mix of pop stars, actors, fashionistas, writers and millionaires to a drinks reception at No 10, which became known as the “Cool Britannia” party. Guests included Noel Gallagher, Ralph Fiennes, Lenny Henry, Vivienne Westwood, Helen Mirren, Anita Roddick, Nick Park and Ben Elton. There was excitement, optimism and Union Jack guitars. A few years later, most of the famous names distanced themselves from the government because of the war in Iraq. The party, for both Blair and Cool Britannia, was over

The Truman show

To celebrate the 1966 publication of In Cold Blood, Truman Capote threw a Black and White Ball with a 540-strong guest list of society heavyweights. He called it “my great big all-time spectacular present to myself”. Invitations were so coveted, it was dubbed “the night Capote made 500 friends and 15,000 enemies”. Politicians, royals, authors, artists and starlets rubbed shoulders in New York’s Plaza hotel ballroom, all wearing masks - Capote’s way of levelling the social playing field.Taittinger flowed. Lauren Bacall danced. Frank Sinatra sipped Wild Turkey with Mia Farrow. Andy Warhol was the only one to get away with going maskless

Prince Harry hits Vegas

The playboy prince’s Sin City antics became a global story in August. On leave from military duties, helicopter pilot Harry and his entourage gathered a posse of pretty females before piling back to his £5,000-a-night hotel suite for a game of vodka-fuelled “strip pool” which left Harry naked in front of 15 girls. One of them took phone pictures. Their publication caused a row about privacy and Prince Charles interrupted a chat with the shrubbery to give his son a stern talking-to. Still, it turned Harry into a cult hero among the US troops in Afghanistan, who nicknamed him “Elvis”

When Harry met Frankie

In 1520, after England’s King Henry VIII had formed an alliance with Francis I of France, the two bearded hedonists splashed the regal cash and tried to outdo each other in a 17-day deal-sealing carnival held near Calais. The Field of the Cloth of Gold featured fountains of wine, vast day-long feasts, jousting and archery contests, troupes of minstrels, tents woven from gold cloth and a 12,000 sq yd marquee painted to look like a castle. Sadly it all came to a bitter end when the two monarchs wrestled – Francis won, Henry sulked and soon they were at war

Castlemorton rave

The free party scene reached its climax in May 1992 with a week-long illegal rave in the Malvern Hills. Battered buses and beeping cars descended on Castlemorton Common, packed with 25,000 daisy-shirted, dreadlocked crusties and shell-suited rave kids. They blew whistles and waved glowsticks along to Spiral Tribe, DiY Sound System, Bedlam and Back to the Planet. Questions were raised in parliament, the media whipped up moral panic and it was to prove the turning point in state tolerance of the travelling soundsystem movement. Thanks to the draconian Criminal Justice Act, outdoor dance culture was never the same again

Jacko’s house parties

When war hero Andrew Jackson was inaugurated as US president in 1829, he celebrated by opening the White House for a public ball. An incredible 21,000 crammed inside and on to the lawns, becoming so rowdy that Jackson had to climb through a window to escape. Nicknamed “King Mob”, he continued to throw open houses, climaxing in 1838’s “Cheese Day”. Jackson let a two-ton wheel of cheddar ferment for a year until it could be smelled from half a mile away, then invited voters to help eat it. Over 10,000 turned up, yet it still took them two hours to finish. For a send-off, Jackson was presented with a carriage made out of hickory sticks

Legless before wicket

After England’s cricketers triumphed in the 2005 Ashes, a drink-up ensued that was nearly as long as a test match. They celebrated at the Oval until 10.30pm, before hitting Soho nightclub Prophecy, where the bulk of the night’s £34,000 bar bill was racked up. Then it was back to their hotel bar for an all-night singalong. Andrew “Freddie” Flintoff staggered out the next morning, bleary after no sleep, to board an open-top bus for a parade around London, quaffing yet more champagne. Asked if he’d had anything to eat, Flintoff slurred: “Yes, a cigar.” During a Downing Street reception he relieved himself in Tony Blair’s rose bushes

When in Rome…

Coming to power aged 24, Caligula turned Rome into his personal party venue, hosting outrageous week-long orgies. He loved to dress up, parading around in Alexander the Great’s breastplate and appearing as Hercules, Jupiter, Apollo and even Venus. His banquets featured loaves made of pure gold, fish dyed blue to look like they were still swimming and meats moulded into statues of elephants. During one bash Caligula decided to build a two-mile floating bridge across the harbour at Baiae and ride across it – just because a soothsayer said he couldn’t. His lavish lifestyle bankrupted the previously prosperous empire